Run, Devil, Run
by MelBell87
Summary: Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but.
1. Chapter 1: Just one of the Boys

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note:** So, I saw the movie last year for the first time, and now I am thoroughly addicted to it (: The story will pick up soon, I promise! Rate&Review please(:

The sun was shining bright, but the air was still a frigid cold. I shivered a bit despite all my gear; usually I was sweating my ass off by now, but it seemed a cold front had taken over the area. I shoved my helmet down on my head, my hair tucked securely underneath, as I fixed the strap under my chin. I shaded my eyes as I glanced around, there were tons of soldiers here…I felt out of place, and definitely in the minority. Most likely, actually, the only one of my kind here; but that's a whole different story. I was just about to take a seat on a rather comfortable looking rock-yes, that's what my definition of comfortable had resorted to!-when I heard my commanding officer yell "Micah! Front and center!"

Now, let me explain before you become confused-my name isn't Micah; actually, it's Charise. That's pronounced Care-is, NOT chair-ese. God, I hate when people mess up my name. Now, I thought it was impossible to get into the army, not that I would have wanted to join in the first place. The only reason I did was for my brother. His name is Micah, and he has a family-wife, two little girls, dog, nice house, the whole shebang. Well, one day I got a letter sent to my house that said they wanted to draft him, since they needed men in the army. I wasn't going to let him go, I mean, he's really religious and against the war. Me? Well, I'm not saying I enjoy blowing people up or anything, but I at least would have less of a problem with it than he would. And he had everything laid out for him already, people to miss him. Sure, my family would miss me, but I didn't really have anything going for me. So I packed up and told my parents I was going to visit my old friend Cheyenne, who lived two states over-I met her on vacation one year, and we still kept in touch through letters. By the time my parents got in touch with her, I was long gone…I wanted a clean cut, so Micah couldn't drag me back and take my place.

By now, I've been in the army for two months. I was surprised I had managed to stay alive for this long, to be honest, but of course I was glad I still was. What my officer could have wanted, though, I wasn't sure. Well, there was only one way to truly find out.

"Private Micah Raquin reporting, sir."

"Good, good…Raquin, I have a special mission for you. This is Captain Miller," General Marshall proclaimed, introducing the man. I gave him a quick nod, and then looked back to the General. "He's been given a mission straight from the top, and needs a group of men to go along with him. The standard group is of eight men, but I'm suggesting he take on one more, just to be safe. Are you up to the task?"

"Yes, General," I told him, giving a quick nod. After being told I had ten minutes to gather my belongings and meet him at the gate, I turned to gather my few supplies.

I never carried much with me, it seemed to me to much stuff would just hold me back and weigh me down. I only had a small bag with the usual supplies, my gun, and my necklace I always had on me-not that it would give me away. It was a silver symbol, one meaning protection that resembled a sword; it was held on a black, rope-like chain. I usually kept it tucked under my shirt, and I patted it to make sure it was there. After I was convinced everything was in my hand, I turned to head for the gate and the Captain.

As I approached, I noticed pretty much everybody looked at me curiously. The other seven guys seemed not much older than me(and I was only nineteen), probably around early to mid-twenties, maybe one exception who was a Sergeant. I gave them a simple nod, which some of them returned. I skipped the formalities, as did the Captain; he seemed to notice I wasn't much for introductions. Instead of having pointless chitchat, we turned and headed down the road.

I mostly kept to myself along the way, but it was evident the other new member of the squad had no such issues with blabbing people's ears off. He hadn't taken the threat of getting his head blown off seriously, and bugged everybody. Mostly, they brushed him off, and in the end he came back and fell into step beside me.

"H-Hey there…I'm Upham," he said in a cherry tone, looking hopeful. I gave him a slight smile, trying to maintain my masculine façade. "Hey," I said absently, and then added "Raquin," as an introduction. He nodded, recognizing the fact I wasn't going to tell him off or threaten him, and started going on about some book he was going to write.

"Corporal, what's your book about?" a voice asked, and I glanced up. It was the medic, who seemed distantly interested; but it was nice of him to at least try to be kind to Upham…I felt bad for the guy.

"It's supposed to be about the sense of brotherhood that forms between soldiers during a war," Upham replied, a bit of a smile crossing his face due to someone being interested in it. Caparzo, however, wasn't so impressed. "Brotherhood?" He jeered, while most of the rest of the squad burst out into fits of laughter. Caparzo shook his head before adding "What do you know about brotherhood ! Hey, Mellish, get a load of this guy!" He turned back to Upham, and said, "Why don't you ask the captain where he's from?"

"Yeah, ask the Captain," Mellish chimed in with a bit of a smirk. "He'll tell you everything you want to know."

I started to tune them all out, my head staying down as I walked along. This was going to be quite a trip, I could tell that already. I mean, we had the assholes, the over friendly guy that didn't even notice he was being made fun of, and…well…everyone else. What did I do to deserve being stuck in this group?

"You okay?" A voice asked, and I looked up to see the medic next to me. I gave him a quick nod, and he shrugged. "Just making sure. I mean, the only other new guy is taking adjusting pretty hard…but you seem to be doing better."

"I'm trying. If I'm going to be working with you guys, I might as well be on good terms, right?" I questioned him, and he nodded. "I see your point," he agreed, and then I tuned in to what the others were saying.

"I mean, where's the sense is risking the lives of the nine of us to save one guy?" the guy I remember them calling Reiben asked, and Captain Miller didn't look at him. Instead, the Captain generally asked, "Anybody wanna answer that?"

"Think about the poor bastard's mother!" Wade said, glancing at Reiben.

Reiben, on the other hand, didn't seem amused in the slightest bit. "Hey, Doc, I got a mother, all right? You got a mother, Jackson got a mother, the girlish lookin' guy back there got a mother, and even the Captains got a mother!...well, maybe not the Captain, but the rest of us do."

Even though I am a girl, I've been doing all I could to blend in, and his comment stung. I narrowed my eyes and cleared my throat. "Uh, girlish looking guy?" I asked, voice icy.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you got some pretty womanly features, kid," he said, smirking. "You look like a girl."

"Yeah? And you look like a piece of shit, so I'd say we're about even," I jabbed back, hiding my smirk. Reiben turned, stopping in front of my, face clearly betraying his angry emotions. "What'd you say to me, kid?" he asked, looking more dangerous since I'd seen him look so far. I stood my ground, arms crossed, and looking up at him. "I SAID, you look like a piece of shit!"

"You little fucker…!" he mumbled, bringing back his fist. Luckily for me, Horvath grabbed his arm and pulled him away. "Calm down, Reiben; just go walk it off…" He pushed him in the opposite direction, up towards the Captain, while I simply smirked; I was a bit proud of myself, to be honest. Apparently, one of the others wasn't.

"Reiben's not the one you should be picking a fight with, kid," a voice drawled, and I glanced up to see the sniper, Jackson. "He's got a mean temper, and won't go easy on you for any reason."

I gave a bit of a shrug, trying to brush it off like I really didn't care. "Uh, thanks, or whatever. I'll keep that in mind for next time," I told him, and he simply nodded.

Well. They were all just little chatterboxes, weren't they?

I continued along beside Jackson in silence, until Upham seemed to pipe up out of nowhere. "There's not to reason why, there's just to do and die."

"La la, la la, la la, la la, la la; what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Corporal, huh? Are we all supposed to die?" Mellish mocked, looking at Upham like he was crazy.

I had to say, as much as I pinned him as a dick; I had to agree with Mellish. Why the hell would Upham decide to say something like that as we're going off to war? Way to be sensitive, you know?

"He's talking about our duty as soldiers," Captain Miller said, ignoring Mellish's comment. "We all have orders, and we have to follow them; that even supersedes your mother."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Upham said quickly, thinking the Captain was defending him.

"Even if you think the missions FUBAR, sir?" Reiben asked, his cocky smirk plastered on his face.

"Especially if you think the missions FUBAR," Miller said, smiling a tiny bit.

"What's FUBAR mean?" Upham questioned, looking from one man to the other questioningly.

"Huh? Oh, it's German," Mellish said snidely, causing a few of the men to chuckle. Man, this guy was oblivious…apparently he was good at translating other languages, but not common acronyms. In my short time here, even I had picked up the meaning. And that's really saying something!

It was quiet for a few moments again, and then from next to me I heard "Sir, I have an opinion on this matter." I glanced up at Jackson out of the corner of my eye, curious as to what he would say.

"Well, by all means, share it with the squad."

"Well, from my way of seeing things, sir, this entire mission is a serious misallocation of valuable military resources," Jackson said smoothly, glancing around a bit. "Well, it seems to me, sir, that God gave me a special gift, made me a fine instrument of warfare."

Miller shook his head some, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Reiben, pay attention. Now this is the way to gripe. Continue, Jackson."

"Well, what I mean by that, sir, is if you were to put me and this here sniper rifle anywhere up to and including one mile of Adolf Hitler with a clear line of sight, sir- Pack your bags, fellas. War's over."

"That's brilliant, bumpkin," Reiben said with mock enthusiasm; as much as I instantly disliked the guy, I bit my lip to keep a tiny smile from forming. Not that I didn't like Jackson-he and Wade seemed the most likeable on the squad-and he had a point, it was just in a way Reiben reminded me of myself. Making snide remarks here and there, I mean.

Reiben looked over at Miller, and asked "Hey, so, what about you, Captain? I mean, don't you grip at all?"

"I don't gripe to you, Reiben. I'm a captain. There's a chain of command. Gripes go up, not down. Always up. You gripe to me, I gripe to my superior officer, so on, so forth. I don't gripe to you. I don't gripe in front of you," he finished, looking away.

Reiben wasn't to be deterred, and pressed on. "I'm sorry, sir, but, uh…let's say you weren't a captain or maybe I was a major. What would you say then?"

"Well, in that case, I'd say this is an excellent mission, sir, with an extremely valuable objective, sir, worthy of my best efforts, sir. Moreover…I feel heartfelt sorrow for the mother of Private James Ryan and I am willing to lay down my life and the lives of my men, especially you, Reiben, to ease her suffering." Miller finished his retort with a smirk, not even looking at the defeat plastered on Reiben's face.

"He's good," Mellish said as if he was just realizing this, nodding some. Caparzo looked at Mellish and smirked. "I love him," he added, before the two started making kissing noises at eachother.

Oh, yeah. I was in for one hell of an adventure.


	2. Chapter 2: Tu Parle Francais?

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note: I've been sick, so these will probably come out a bit slow ** Rate&Review please(:

Although at first it seemed that everybody was in a fine mood, the joking began to slow down and the company fell into silence. It seemed the severity of the situation-the fact they were in a midst of a war, and anybody could die any moment-weighed heavy on their minds. I knew it was heavy on mine, and the only thing that I could do to distract myself and make it seem okay was to think of Micah.

As much as I wished I had never enlisted by this point, I was consistent in reminding myself it was better me than Micah. I would get through this, I had already survived this far. Besides, we were on a rescue mission…we weren't going to get into any big, unnecessary battles, right? A company of eight nine would be target practice for the hordes of Germans I was positive were lurking about the country side, and I knew the Captain wasn't ignorant to this information.

I looked over at the rest of the men, they seemed weary and unsure. Gunfire could be heard in the distance, and a bit of a rumble resounded all about us. The sun seemed to have taken cover behind some clouds, leaving us to make our way along the dirt path by feeling rather than sight. I squeezed my eyes shut before looking up at the sky.

It seemed to be the only thing to remain the same the world over. Wherever you were, you could always glance up and see the same picture-the sun, a blue expanse that seemed to go on endlessly, and occasionally, fluffy clouds that varied from white to a dull gray. The thought calmed me-if it weren't for the surrounding noises and the heavy gear weighing me down, it would have been easy to imagine myself back home again. Shaking the thoughts from my head-I realized they were only depressing me-I turned my head and looked at the fast approaching silhouette of a town.

I licked my lips as the rain began to fall steadily, turning the formerly sturdy dirt road into a sea of mud. I managed to stumble my way through it, until we stepped up onto the road that was in shambles. Apparently, this was what was left of Neuville; it was clear the Germans had gotten here and taken control of the situation. Even though I had hesitations about pressing on, it was our duty as a regiment.

"Stay close, it's going to start getting dangerous," Horvath told me as we made our way through the city gates, and I gave a quick nod.

Immediately, I started to tune in on the noises-there was a German voice amplified through a loud speaker, still some crackling gunfire echoing around us. There was a group of soldiers I couldn't faintly see a bit off, and some French voices. Seeing as my mother is French, I had learned the basics of the language when I was younger; she said something about not wanting to lose my culture, or something like that. I concentrated on their words, trying to translate.

"Les Americaines! Les voila!" Americans, over here.

We pushed forward, creeping up incase the soldiers were in fact Germans. I followed along behind Mellish, and as we crept up to the main wall-which was, in fact, partially demolished-I crouched down to take cover, listening once more.

"Iis arrivent! Iis viennet nous sauver!" They've arrived, They've come to help us…I believe that's what they'd said. After a moment, a man's voice was added in.

"Nous sommes la! Viens par ici!"

Although I couldn't understand everything they'd said-I was a bit rusty with the language, after all-I definitely understood the call for help.

As we approached, the group of soldiers was more apparent, and in the darkness the accompanied the drilling rain, it was hard to tell which side they were affiliated with.

Captain Miller glanced around the corner, holding his gun, before returning to his former position so he was hidden from the soldiers. "Thunder!" he called out, hands tensed and an inch away from pulling the trigger…just in case.

In the split second before the answer, I saw how tensed up everyone had become-there was a chance we would have to fight again, and there was a possibility of losing another. However, as somebody called back "Flash!" they all relaxed noticeably. Miller pushed himself up, inching forward to the very edge of the wall. There was a bit of a gap between the wall we were behind, and those the other soldiers had taken cover near. There was a possibility we could be shot in crossing, so he must have decided it would be best to go a bit at a time.

"Upham, over there," Miller said, motioning towards the wall with the other men. "Reiben, Caparzo, Wade, Upham; you four go."

The men he pointed out across the opening, and as Miller motioned for us to follow, the rest of us also went on. We took cover next to the other group, some of us crouching down and some of us kneeling.

The sergeant in charge of them approached us, smiling a tiny bit-his face was weary, and he was clearly relieved at seeing us."Boy, are you guys a sight for sore eyes. Sergeant Hill, our relief showed up. How many are you?"

"Just nine of us," Miller said, before pausing. "We're not your relief, though. Sorry."

Hill frowned, clearly puzzled by the information. "What do you mean, sir?"

"We're here for a Private Ryan."

"Ryan? What for?"

"Is he here?," Miller questioned, the prospect of being done so soon clearly lightening his mood a bit.

"I don't know, maybe with a mixed unit on the other side of town. It's hard to get to. The Germans punched a hole in our center, cut us right in two. What's his name again?" Hill asked, looking about distractedly.

"Ryan. James Ryan. He dropped in with 101st," Miller answered, glancing around as well.

Hill turned to face one of the men nearby. "Goldman, get me a runner up here. Come on." He motioned for us to follow him forward, which our company did after receiving the okay from the Captain.

We stopped next to another sad excuse for a wall, glancing over it and towards a winding street. We all looked up at Hill, waiting for him to speak.

"We got stopped by some intense rifle action from the east ward. The Germans have been reinforcing two regiments all day. The streets have been quiet for about forty-five minutes-most of the German fire is concentrated towards the west."

"Who's on the loudspeaker?" Miller questioned, and Hill looked at him.

"That's 'Dagwood Dusseldorf', our friendly neighborhood morale officer," he replied, voice riddled with sarcasm.

Miller clearly was trying to listen in, and managed to make out a few of the words. "'The Statue of Liberty is kaput?' That's disconcerting," he scoffed, shaking his head a bit.

I glanced around, trying to see what the others were doing. I noticed some were having hushed conversations…and then, out of nowhere, Mellish. "Your father was circumcised by my Rabi, you prick!" I couldn't help but smile a bit as his words reached my ears, even if our current situation was rather serious.

I sat back against the wall, looking to my right at Upham. "You okay?" I asked, noticing he seemed a bit nervous. He nodded solemnly, saying, "Yeah. I'm just….just not used to all of this. I signed up and thought I would just be translating. Even if I went through basic. The theory of being out here, and actually being in the line of fire…it's a lot different," he said, and I could understand what he meant.

I never thought it would be this bad when I signed up. Clearly, I was wrong.

"Alright men, head to the east and take the long way around. But be careful!" Miller shouted, and we all stood up, beginning to head out along the winding alleyways.

It was rather silent again-it seemed hard to shake off the feelings of worry-but, leave it to Upham to attempt to start up conversation again. Clearly, the guy never learned.

"So, Reiben, where's the captain from?"

Reiben smirked, before looking back at him casually. "You figure that out, you got yourself a nice prize."

Jackson fixed his gun, a smirk tracing across his face as well. "Three hundred bucks, last I heard."

"You have a poll?" I questioned, looking at them disbelievingly. Didn't they have anything better to do with their time?

"Nothing else to do," Caparzo remarked, and I shook my head in spite of the smile that came to me.

"Five bucks gets you in." Jackson said, glancing from me to Upham.

"Somebody must know where he's from, what he did for a living." Upham pressed.

Horvath spoke up, saying, "I've been with him since Kasserine Pass, and I don't have a clue."

I was a bit curious now, why was the Captain so secretive? I could understand he didn't want his men to know his business, but if this many were in the poll-well, surely they were all annoying him to get the answer. Wouldn't it have been easier to just say it, and get them all off your back? That's what I would have done, anyway.

"Reiben…" Upham started up again. "…so you don't even know where he went to school?"

"Captain didn't go to school." Reiben mumbled as he followed Miller along the rocky, debris-filled path. "They assembled him at O.C.S. out of spare parts of dead G.I.s."

Caparzo leaned towards Upham, a bit of a smirk plastered on his face. "You have to pay attention to detail. I know where he's from and exactly what he did 'cause I pay attention to detail."

Jackson lifted his leg, exaggerating a step over some piles of rocks. "Hey, Upham…careful you don't step in the bullshit."

We continued onward, and came upon another wall. We crouched down as we went forth, and next to a gate, Reiben-who was, for the most part, leading us-peered through as some voices were heard. Suddenly, they cut off. "Thunder!" he called, listening closely.

Silence.

"Thunder, or we will fire on you!"

"Ne tirez pas!," the woman called out, clearly distressed and worried. "On est Francais!"

I turned to peer through the gate, and saw a tiny family situated on the second floor of a building. Part of the wall was blown away, and the rain was pouring down on them, causing them all to be drenched. A little girl shivered, held in her father's arms, and I felt a pang of nostalgia. She reminded me of my neice, part of the reason I was here.

"Upham," The captain's command brought me back to the present. "Tell them to show themselves."

Upham peered through the gate as well, and shouted out, "Montrez-vous! Montrez-vous!"

A man's voice called back, saying, "On n'est pas armes!"

The little girl began to cry, and I bit my lip. It was sad to see her like this-the entire family in this situation-but there wasn't much we could do. They called out to us, my splintered French not fully understanding them. The only one who did was Upham.

"Ask them if they know where the Germans are," Mellish said. Upham complied, waiting for an answer; but the man who I supposed was the father yelled desperately at us. Miller finally asked Upham, "What is he saying?"

"Something about the children, " Upham said as he watched them, trying to figure out just what they wanted. He lifted his daughter from the floor, holding her out over the pile of rubble that made it easy to climb up into the room. "They want us to take the children."

The captain groaned. "No, no, no. We can't take the kids."

Upham tried to reason with them in French, but they were dead set on getting their children to safely. Miller, on the other hand, had no such plans. Even though it was useless seeing as they didn't understand us, he continued to yell, "We can't take the kids! NO!"

It really hit home, seeing them in this situation…I knew that if I was in the parent's position, I would do the same thing. "Sir…" I began to speak up, looking at the Captain, "It's only because they think the children will be safe with us."

Miller looked at me, clearly unhappy with the fact one of his soldiers was siding with the French civilians over their superior. "They aren't!" he said, flustered, not knowing what else to say.

I was getting prepared to charge in there myself, when I saw a movement. Caparzo stepped forward, reaching up and taking the girl from the father's hands.

"Are you nuts? Listen to the captain!" Horvath roared, clearly outraged somebody had stepped out of line when we were in clear danger.

"Caparzo! Put that kid back!" Miller growled

Caparzo reached around his neck, balancing the girl on his side with his other arm. He held out his rosary to her, mumbling "It's okay…it's okay…"

"CAPARZO!" Miller yelled, his temper growing thin.

"Upham, how do you say 'It's ok?'" Caparzo asked, as he started to descend back towards safety.

"PUT HER BACK!" By now, I couldn't tell who it was; there was a chorus of voices yelling to him.

"I can't. She reminds me of my niece, sir."

I bit my lip, knowing that we were in the same boat. The fact that he was risking his life for some little girl made me think twice about my previous, harsh judgment of him.

"GET THAT KID BACK UP THERE!"

"Captain, the decent thing to do is take her down the road to the next town."

"We're not here to do the decent thing!" Miller yelled, marching over to Caparzo and snatching the girl out of his arms. "We're here to follow fuckin' orders!"

Caparzo tried to move after the captain, but then paused. He seemed a bit angry, but at the same time, was stuck between following orders and doing what he felt was right.

"Someone, take this kid!" Miller shouted again, thrusting the girl into the nearest pair of arms-which just so happened to be mine.

Just as the girl was in my arms and I attempted to comfort her, I heard a bullet whiz through the air. In shock, I watched as Caparzo went down, trying to walk. He fell against the crushed piano next to us and tried to hopelessly stand up. It was clear he was trying to make his way to safety-to us-but it just wasn't going to happen. I held back a flurry of emotions as he sank into the mud.


	3. Chapter 3: Hit

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note: I've been sick, so these will probably come out a bit slow ** Rate&Review please(:

"Damn it! Where'd that come from?" Horvath questioned, looking around.

"He was on the ground before we heard the shot!" Jackson shouted back, before looking about as well. His eyes locked on a church tower, and he readied his gun "That's where'd I be. I didn't see it, but I could guess. Four hundred fifty yards, Captain. Maybe a shade under. I wouldn't venture out there, fellas! This sniper's got talent."

Jackson headed around some more debris, taking up position next to a large pile of rubble. He lay down, situating his gun so that the muzzle of it pointed straight at the tower. Jamming his helmet down on his head, he looked through the eye piece, trying to get a clear aim at the figure he was sure was hiding in the tower.

Caparzo looked at us, his voice shaking. "Captain!" he called, trying to escape his position out in the open.

"Hold on, Caparzo," Miller called, willing him to stay still-and Jackson to hurry.

"Help me up. I can walk. I can walk!" he shouted, a bit of anxiety edging into his voice. He was frantic, now; he must have known death was a likely possibility.

I still held the girl, who was crying more now. She clutched the rosary tightly in one hand, her face buried into my chest-she must have sensed I wanted to help her. I patted her on the back, trying to calm her echoing cries.

"Caparzo, stay still!" Wade ordered. It was evident the medic wanted to make his way out there to him, but Caparzo was fading fast. I knew that Wade felt a sort of duty to protect us all and keep us safe; but him dying right about now wouldn't exactly do the squad a lot of good.

Wade cried out, "Captain, can you see him from there? How is he? Is he alright?"

"Wade, you stay put!" Miller ordered, giving him a serious glare. Obviously, the Captain and I were on the same wavelength.

"Where's he shot, Captain?" Wade continued, starting to get up. "Captain, can you see them from there?"

"YOU STAY THERE!"

"Damn it, stay down! What's the matter with you?" Mellish shouted, grabbing the back of Wade's pack and pulling him down into a sitting position.

"Caparzo, don't move. Put your head down. Put your head down!" Wade ordered, knowing the Sniper was still out there.

Caparzo was to preoccupied to listen, obviously. He reached into his jacket, searching for something, and pulled a letter out of his jacket. "Copy it. Copy it and send it for me," he begged somebody, waving it towards us.

"Carpy, you're gonna send it yourself. Put it down!" Mellish told him, staring at him with worried eyes.

Caparzo was still panicking, however, and took a deep breath. "It's got blood on it! It's- It's- It's to my dad. It's got blood on it."

"Caparzo…just hold on a second longer," somebody called, and I didn't bother trying to see who it was. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, hoping that he would somehow make it through this. He was just trying to save a little girl! He didn't deserve to die.

After a moment of silence, I heard footsteps on the rubble and a quick 'Got 'em' as Jackson made his way back over to us. It was like somebody has pressed play on a formerly paused movie; all of a sudden, everyone shot up and ran over to Caparzo.

Mellish reached his old friend first, and looked down. "How bad is he?" Wade reached him second, already taking his pack off of his back and preparing to patch him up. "Chest, maybe lung shot."

I watched, worried, my heart beating a mile a minute. I felt shell shocked as Wade pulled a blanket out, and set it down over him. It was so fast-in a matter of five minutes, a bright life had faded out, and I could do nothing but sit there and watch. I swallowed back a lump in my throat, and looked at the girl, who peered up now that all the noises had ceased.

I pulled the rosary out of her hand and set her down, allowing her to run back herself to her parents. Although I knew that it wasn't her fault, at this moment, the girl disgusted me-she didn't give a damn about the soldier who now lay dead on the ground, even though he sacrificed his life to try and help her out.

The thought made me sick to my stomach.

I made my way out towards the others, shaking my head solemnly as we all just looked at the figure under the blanket. I leaned down, setting the rosary on his chest, and straightened back up without a word.

"This is why we can't take children," Miller said venomously, as he reached under the blanket and ripped Caparzo's dog tags off. I looked away as he started to rattle off orders.

"Sergeant Horvath, do an ammo check. Upham, Raquin…canteens. Fill 'em up. Mellish, check the tower, hustle back here. Right now. Go!"

I did the assigned task with Upham almost soundlessly, neither of us bothered to try and start a conversation. The sense of loss still hung heavily in the air, and we figured talking about it wouldn't help any-in fact, it would probably make the situation worse. Soon enough, we came back, and redistributed the canteens to our men. Moments later, we were on the move again, Caparzo's body a distant figure in the clearing behind us.

Rounding another corner, I almost ran into the man in front of me as we spotted a rifle sticking out of the wall.

"Thunder!"

"Flash!"

It seemed we had finally crossed paths with the other half of the American unit stationed here, and I couldn't be more relieved. Maybe, just maybe, this would heighten our chances some-I wasn't much for taking risks as is, but the fact one of our men had already died made me think twice about each step forward I took. However, I was to far in to give up just yet. There was no going back-it was press on, or die. The image of myself being looked at as we had just looked at Caparzo made me shudder, and continue on nearly glued to Jackson's side.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, clearly sensing my discomfort. I gave a bit of a noncommittal shrug, before voicing the matter. "It's just…when we landed on Omaha Beach and all the men died there, it didn't hit as hard as Caparzo's death just did. Maybe it's the fact a smaller squad makes it easier to connect. I didn't know Caparzo well, but…it felt like I did."

"Hmph," Jackson murmured, before looking about cautiously. "Seems like Upham might've been onto something, with the talk about those 'bonds of brotherhood' and all," he said, and I nodded quickly. Yeah, maybe he did know what he was talking about.

There was a rush of people, crews regrouping, and I stood still next to Jackson. Wade had come over, and the two exchanged some rushed words, before the medic wandered off again-presumably to find the Captain.

Despite our large numbers with both squadrons combined, I still felt ill at ease-exposed, like it would be easy for Germans to pick us off one by one. I glanced over at the other Sergeant who was with us, who was complaining about a pain in his foot. "Oh, let me get this hitchhiker out of my boot!" he said, before moving over to a pile of rubble.

The rubble rested against and old house, and as the Sergeant sat back, a plank from behind him fell and smacked into the wall. It was like watching a domino effect, or something of the sort-all of a sudden, the bricks started to cave inwards. Seconds later, the wall collapsed and a pile of dust shot up. When the dust started to settle, it was easy to see the German soldiers watching us with wide eyes in the now destroyed room.

Simultaneously, everybody reached for their weapons, American and German alike. The tension was thick in the air, for clearly neither side wanted to suffer losses or be the first to shoot. Suddenly both sides began to yell.

"Drop your weapons!"

"Nicht! Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"

"Drop 'em now!"

"Nicht!"

"Drop the fucking weapons!"

"Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"

"I'll shoot you! I'll shoot ya! I'll shoot you!"

Only one German managed to get a shot off, before the rumble of a machine gun sent bullets whizzing past us and flying towards the enemy line. Every single one of them fell, and as the bullets shot into the furniture as well, wood splintered and flew out everywhere. I felt a pain in my side, but brushed it off as a simple piece of debris flying past.

We glanced up to see who had come to our aid, and saw some more of our men up top-but none I recognized.

"Fred Hamill, Pathfinders 101st," the one man greeted.

"John Miller, 2nd Rangers. Thank you. We're here looking for a Private James Ryan, he's part of your outfit. Any chance at all you policed him up?" Miller asked, not sure of the answer he would find.

"Uh, sir…?" Upham began, but Miller cut him off. "Not now, Upham."

"How was the road in?" Hamill asked Miller. "Scenic. We lost most of our ammo. Not to mention one of our men."

"Captain!" Upham said, a bit more urgently.

"I said not now, Upham!" Miller reprimanded, before looking back to Hamill.

"Lieutenant, re-deploy that bazooka to the right side of the road. And get Ryan up here." Hamill shouted, watching as his orders were carried out.

"Yes, sir! Ryan! Ryan, front and center! Ryan!"

As we waited, Upham spoke-surprisingly-roughly to Miller. "Captain, it's important!"

Miller turned to look at him, clearly unhappy with the many interruptions that had hit him thus far. He was almost at his breaking point. "Fine, what, Upham?"

Upham's tone returned to his rather soft, hesitant one. "Uh, it's-it's Raquin, sir. He's been hit."

I looked over at the others, who were all staring at me. I looked down at my side, and as my eyes landed on the tattered shirt, I felt the pain hit. I suppose maybe it was because I hadn't been paying attention to it, I hadn't felt it-but now, I sure as hell felt it. I gripped my side with my hand, biting my lower lip, and Wade made his way over to me.

"Hey, Micah, come on, we're gonna get you out of here. Come on, this house right here. I'll fix you up in there," he said, pulling me towards the structure. I followed him inside, and he made a turn off of the main room into a different one.

It was a bedroom, and he pulled off his pack as I made my way over onto the bed. I laid down, trying to make sense of what was going on. And to wrap the wound…

"No, I'm-I'm sure it's fine," I told him, eyes steely and hard. Wade looked at me like I was stupid. "Don't be ridiculous, Raquin. It might not be deep, but it could be infected without cleaning. I don't care if I have to knock you out, I'm cleaning you up."

"No, really, Wade-I'll be okay…"

"Raquin!" He said, cutting me off. "Just shut up. You're getting patched up, whether you like it or not."

With that, I closed me eyes, and succumbed to my fate.


	4. Chapter 4: The Truth Revealed

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note: Weeee three chapters in a day! Probably won't update till Saturday. ** Rate&Review please(:

I guess I always knew I would be found out one way or another-but I always thought it would be after I'd died. What I didn't expect was to be sitting her in a bedroom, with Wade preparing to work over me. My side was on fire, although I knew it could be much, much worse; and I couldn't rid my head of the possibilities that surrounded my near future. Would they deploy me? Leave me here? The idea of being allowed to continue on with the men seemed unlikely, although it was probably what I'd most like to do. After all, I hadn't come all this way-and gotten shot!-for absolutely nothing.

"Move your hand, Raquin," Wade told me, and I complied easily enough. Upon removing it from my side I glanced at it-my fingers were wet with blood, and I averted my eyes immediately. I didn't want to think of how bad it could be. And here I was hoping it was just a scratch…

"Eh…it's pretty deep," Wade said, before adding, "but nothing we can't handle. I can see the bullet passed clear through your side, but it left a bit of a mess in it's wake. Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up and back out of here in no time," he assured me with a small smile. I noticed he didn't seem too sure of himself-but at the same time, there was a fierce determination there. I guess he didn't want me to go down the same road as Caparzo.

I sighed a bit as he laid his tools out, and covered my eyes with my hands. I felt him un-tuck my larger shirt, his hands nimbly undoing the buttons. He pushed the loose fabric up, before pulling up the other shirt we wore underneath it. As soon as it was up high enough, I heard Wade gasp a bit. Well, that was that…my secret was out.

I had taken enough care to always wrap my chest, flattening myself out as much as possible. I suppose now that didn't make a difference. The medic was silent, and I moved my fingers apart, peering through them. He still appeared completely shell shocked, that was for sure.

"You…..you're…." Wade started, and I didn't move. Well, obviously. It took him a moment or two to regain his composure.

There was a moment of silence so heavy it seemed tangible, before Wade solemnly stated, "You know I'm going to have to tell the Captain, right?"

I had a sharp intake of breath, and I went to stand up-but pain shot through my side, and I regrettably settled back down on the bed. "No, Wade-you can't, I can't go back-if I did, then-" I cut myself off when I was overcome by a fit of coughs, and the medic shook his head.

"Look, we'll discuss it, okay? But I have to patch you up, first," he said, and a second later I felt the pinch of a needle entering through my skin. I took a few deep breaths as Wade readied everything he would need, and within moments, I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

"So...what's your actual name, anyway?" he questioned, and a felt something digging in my side. I flinched at the unpleasant sensation, and then felt a liquid poured along the wound to flush anything out. "It's Charise," I told him. "But I didn't just steal some random identity."

"Yeah?" Wade asked, almost as if he didn't fully believe me. He put a few more things on the wound, before I saw him threading a needle looking thing...great, stitches. "Then who's did you take? I doubt you made it up, all the information checked out-or you wouldn't be here."

Taking a deep breath, I realized I couldn't get into any deeper shit than I was already currently in. "My brother's," I said, and Wade paused mid-stitch to look up at me. "I've always been really close with him. I had a feeling they would be drafting men, so I was always running out to get the mail and looking for that letter. When I found it, I thought about burning it-but then they still could have come to our house. So I made up an excuse and took off. Nobody knows where I am right now, but...well, if it keeps my brother safe, then I'm fine with it."

"That's..." Wade started, and I filled in all the possible answers in my head. Stupid? Idiotic? Suicidal? "...an incredibly loyal thing to do," he finished, and I'd bet my life that it wasn't the reason he thought I would have come. As he finished the stitches, he took out a role of gauze. "But unfortunately, that doesn't change anything. Sit up."

I did sit up, but not before fixing him with a look of pure disbelief. "What? Wade, come on! My brother hates anything violent. He'd go to jail before coming out here. You get me sent home, and you lose a soldier!" I half pleaded, as he wrapped the gauze around my side for extra protection against any dirt or germs that may try to weasel their way into the wound.

"I see your point, but you have to see mine. If I get caught with knowing the information you aren't a man, I could face some pretty heavy consequences too. I have to tell Miller. He might not send you home-he'd probably just...keep you out of a direct line of danger. That's almost as good, right?" Wade asked, and I could see the resolve in his eyes. No matter how much I begged or pleaded, he wasn't budging; in essence, I was fighting a losing battle. Shaking my head, I looked down. "Whatever, Wade. Do what you have to do."

He secured the band of gauze, and I pulled my shirt down to fix it. Buttoning my outer shirt back up as well, I rose off the bed-still a bit tender, as far as I could tell through the morphine-and headed out of the house while Wade gathered his supplies back up. As I stepped into the sunlight behind a line of our men, I looked at Mellish. "So, what happened?" I asked, using my disguised voice for what I was sure would be one of the last times.

"Hey, glad to see your not going to be more of a burden than the Corporal!" Mellish greeted, causing Upham to flinch a bit...the poor guy. "Well we got the wrong James Ryan, so we could have come out here for nothing. Can you fucking believe that? Same name...different state. I thought Miller was ready to choke somebody!" He said, and we both glanced at the Captain-whom Wade was currently talking to.

"Well, he might right about now," I said, causing Mellish to look at him confusedly. It was clear to me that Miller was taken aback, and Wade mouthed an apology to me. I shrugged it off, although it was hard to see his side of the argument...well, I was trying to. And as Captain Miller approached me, I could only hope that whatever my fate may be, it didn't involve Micah coming out to these front lines.

Well, the one thing I didn't expect was for Miller to take the situation so lightly. He didn't threaten to have me deployed, or leave me there, or any of the other ridiculous ideas I had come up with; he hadn't even done what Wade thought he would do. He just demanded answers, was all. Real name. Real age. How did I know Micah? What were my reasons for taking his place? After I felt like I had been interrogated for nearly an hour, he simply reminded me what I signed up for. I was out here with his squad, and just because I was a woman didn't mean I would be treated any differently. Well, I didn't expect to be. I was overjoyed at the prospect of getting to stay...and maybe more of that reasoning had to do with the fact that I had become to comfortable around these men for my own good.

The boys, on the other hand, had mixed reactions to the news. Upham was utterly shocked, he hadn't seen this coming at all. Reiben just...smirked. Hm, I couldn't imagine why. I tried to ignore him for the most part. Horvath had almost the same take that Miller did, and Wade was just, well, himself. I assured him I wasn't angry seeing as the outcome was fine, and that there were no hard feelings involved. I also didn't expect Jackson and Mellish to find the situation as entertaining as they did. Mellish was a bit on the sexist side-didn't think I could keep up, even though I obviously had thus far-and thought I would slow him down, although he wasn't as serious about it as I thought he would be. Jackson, on the other hand, joked I was one more thing for him to have to watch, but I didn't mind the teasing. I was just relieved they weren't opposed or trying to get me sent home right then and there.

After talking to a few of the men still stationed around, we still had no lead and decided to simply call it a night. The church was the closest thing to a hotel we could find, since most of the houses were destroyed. We didn't have any complaints, though; and all of us except for Miller and Horvath-who stayed up elsewhere to talk-bunked down for the night.

Almost immediately after lying down, Jackson was sound asleep. Some of us made a few jokes about the situation, but after a while I wandered off to go take a seat next to Upham. The poor guy was sitting alone, and seemed just...out of the loop, and I felt bad for him. I made my way over and sat next to him on the pew, my hands wrapped around a warm cup of coffee.

"Hey...you alright?" I asked, and his head shot up. Clearly, he hadn't expected anybody to come talk to him.

"Huh? Y-yeah...I'm fine..." he answered, and I gave him a soft smile. "You shouldn't let them get to you," I said softly, and he blinked in a bit of confusion. "What?"

"The guys. They're only being tough on you because you're new. Hell, the only reason I'm getting off easy is because I'm a girl."

"But they didn't give you as hard of a time as they're giving me, even when they thought you were a guy!" Upham countered, his voice low.

I sighed a little, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Because when they messed with me, I stood up to them. If they push you around, don't take it. And if they just throw a comment your way, throw one back. If you don't, you'll never get anywhere...you'll always be the butt of the joke," I told him, and he only shrugged. I gave a tiny smile, and assured him everything would be fine. "Just try and get some sleep, alright?"

My talk with Upham did little to calm me, and as I sipped on my coffee, I took a seat in one of the empty pews. There were only a few still awake-myself, Reiben, and Wade. Everyone else had gone to sleep or drifted off elsewhere.

"Thought of the war keeping you awake too, Charise?" Wade asked, and I nodded a bit. "Yeah...it's like every time I shut my eyes, I still see everything from that day on Omaha Beach, crystal clear. I can't shake it."

Reiben reclined on a pew diagonal to mine, and looked at me. "It's something you'll have to get past. Not sleeping will only hold us all back."

"Yeah? I don't see you catching up on your beauty sleep, Cinderella."

"It's not like I need it. Besides, Jackson gets plenty of it-it isn't doing him much good, now is it?"

We all looked over to Jackson, who seemed a bit comical in the way he was sprawled out on the pew. We all gave a bit of a laugh, and at that moment, I felt closer to the two than I had ever felt before. I realized that whether we were in the midst of a war or back home, no matter what the situation, these boys-this entire squad-were my family now. And I'd do everything in my power to keep them safe.


	5. Chapter 5: Twenty Questions

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note:** So, the reason I portrayed Reiben as I did in this chapter is because in other fanfics I've read, he can at times act like a horny bastard. But honestly, think about it…you're a man, in a company of men, for who knows how long. No women around. And then there's one on your squad. Well, anybody would look good, I think…but let me know if you think his portrayal was okay, or if I should just keep him mouthy ^^' Review please!(:

Allow me to give some few choice words of advice. First off, never, ever sleep on a church pew. After waking up with back cramps the size of Manhattan, I was sure that was one thing I could add to my list of things I'd done, and never wanted to do again. Hell, it was like sleeping on rocks…there may be cushion underneath you, but don't be fooled. That shit is about as soft as a dining room table.

Second, when you're in the army, don't sleep in. Apparently nobody had thought to wake me up, so when I opened my eyes and found the area empty…well, at first I thought I had awoken from some crazy dream and was back home. I had no explanation for being in the church; but all false thoughts were destroyed as I sat up and felt the familiar pain in my side. Memories of the day before came rushing back to my head, and I realized I had to get out and find my company. Surely they hadn't abandoned me-I had no reasons to suspect they would. So I pulled on my boots, grabbed my helmet, and went to make my way outside.

Which brings my to point number three, and the most important, in my case: Don't suspect just because your own company is comfortable with your gender, that any other company will be as well.

Upon exiting the church, I squinted my eyes against the bright sunlight that made its way between the clouds. I rolled my helmet around my fist, before simply gripping the chin strap between my fingers. With my free hand, I tried to tidy my hair a bit; I was absolutely sure it was a damn mess from sleeping on that godforsaken excuse for a bed. After making sure the blonde strands were at least presentable, I pulled my helmet on-not bothering to tuck my hair underneath it for once-and started out to find my company.

The first thing I noticed was the others were uncharacteristically quiet, usually soldiers were bustling and talkative at this time-a good nights sleep was refreshing. They were also looking at me oddly, and for obvious reasons. A woman was unheard of in the army, but one who actually wanted to enlist-and more than that, was still alive after numerous battles? Well, men wouldn't dream of it; clearly they all had previously drawn a conclusion that if you weren't a man, you were worthless on the battlefield.

Hell, I could probably teach a few of them a lesson or two! I'm stronger than I look, thank you very much. Sexist people are what make me angrier than anything else, believe it or not.

After what seemed like an eternity and millions of stares later-thankfully, none of them had anything smart to say or I most likely would have put a bullet through their brain-I finally saw my company ahead. Quickening my pace, I slid into their circle between Reiben and Upham, Captain Miller looking at me with a somewhat bored expression.

"Nice of you to join us today, Raquin," he said flatly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reiben smirk and say "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Guess you caught up on that beauty sleep, huh?"

"Yeah, and I see you didn't catch up on yours. What a shame," I shot back, causing him to grimace and a few others to snicker. I turned to the Captain, however, and explained myself. "I wasn't woken up, sir, or I would have been out here whenever everybody else was." He didn't seem to truly mind, however, seeing as the company wasn't held back in moving along our path. I felt a bit relieved, I really needed to step it up and prove just because I was a woman didn't necessarily mean that I was a burden. Hell, I could probably bring some beneficial things to the squad! What they were I didn't know, but I was determined to find out what I could do. I wasn't backing down from my own self-issued challenge-I was going to show these men I could do whatever they did, and then some.

Apparently, I hadn't missed much. Some of the men had gone to talk to a paratrooper who had known Ryan, and told us where his drop zone was. When I ran up to Miller, he was preparing to leave, doing a final check.

"Alright. I hope you have everything, because we're heading out," Miller said to us all, and although there were a few groans, nobody seemed to really mind. Honestly, when we were all on the road, it seemed like we bonded more-we didn't have anything to do except for walk. There was no reason to be completely guarded, just on alert. The only other time we could really talk freely was when we were getting to sleep, and usually everybody was to exhausted to pick up a conversation by that point anyway.

As we exited the gate of the destroyed city opposite the way we entered, I fell into step beside Wade. Although I had previously harbored feelings of contempt for him betraying my identity to the Captain, now that I saw everything was okay, I held no grudges. Wade was easily one of the men I felt most comfortable talking to, perhaps because he seemed the least judgmental of the bunch. I looked at him, giving a tiny smile, which he returned. After a few moments of silence-which were very awkward, might I add-Wade started up a conversation.

"So…."

Well. He ATTEMPTED to start a conversation.

"Yeah?" I asked, looking back over at him.

"So, where are you from?" he asked me; wouldn't it figure our conversation would revolve around backgrounds? Well, I was grateful to have somebody to talk to on this trip, so I ignored my snappy mind and answered him.

"Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. You?"

"He isn't gonna tell you where he's from," a voice drawled, and I looked over to Jackson, who was smirking a bit. "Tried to talk to him when we first teamed up, the sucker wouldn't tell me anything."

Wade looked at him amusedly. "I don't recall you sharing your place of origin, Jackson."

"West Fork, Tennessee. I'm awfully open about my roots, unlike other people," he said as Wade made a face of slight annoyance. "So, Pennsylvania, huh? You weren't far off from Carpy or Reiben."

"Where were they from," I asked, and Jackson looked over at me. "New York. I don't know where exactly for Caparzo, but Reiben was from Brooklyn."

"Well, obviously," I told him before nodding towards Reiben's jacket-which clearly stated 'Brooklyn' on the back. Jackson simply shrugged before looking at Wade. "So, what? You gonna play twenty questions with the girl or somethin'?"

Wade looked like he was going to object, but I quickly cut him off. "Why not? We've got a long walk ahead of us…I don't have anything to hide." What could be the harm in getting to know the boys better? Maybe if they knew more about me, they'd open up a bit more, too. I didn't mind getting to know them better, they were my comrades. Besides that, there were one or two I was curious about myself.

And so the game started.

It started out rather innocently…with questions pouring in from both the men. Such as:

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Is Charise your real name, or another alias?"

"It's my real name-it's weird. You think I could make something like that up?"

"What kinds of things did you do in your spare time?"

"I wanted to become a psychologist, even if it's really off for a woman to do something like that. I read books about psychology."

"That sounds boring…" Jackson mumbled, looking around.

"Better than coon hunting."

"Hey! I take offense to that."

"I wanted you to."

It was easier to bond with these guys than I first imagined. Just because you were part of the army didn't mean you had to be some big, brainless meathead whose only interest was killing. These people were smart (well, some of them…), had bright personalities. I had slowly come from seeing them as mindless clones that did as they were told to real people, who had the same worries about survival as I did myself. Seeing them as the same-purely human-brought them into a different light.

The game continued for a while. Eventually, Reiben had enough of listening and fell back to join in the little interrogation on me. The game continued.

"Have any pets?"

"Two dogs, a Rottweiler and a Bull Mastiff."

"Must've had a big place then."

"Eh, big enough."

"Any siblings?"

"One older brother, but you already know about that."

"Plans for the future?"

"Hell, I dunno. I want a family some day-I love kids. But not anytime soon."

"Do you regret enlisting in the army?"

Wade's question stopped the constant banter and I had to think for a moment. Did I? I missed my home. I missed my family, and most of all; I missed not having to worry about constantly watching my back. But did I regret coming here? "...No. I don't, not at all. It's a lot different than what I'm used to, of course. But I met new people, got to do stuff no other girl has been able to do. So I don't regret it-I try not to regret anything."

"Even though you're surrounded by assholes like Reiben day in and day out?" Jackson asked, the familiar smirk appearing on his face. Although Reiben gave a bit of a glare to the southerner, I laughed a bit, and shook my head. "Nah. He's not all that bad when his mouth is shut."

After our joking with Reiben (who surprisingly didn't get angry) slowed down, there was a moment of silence. "…I can't think of anything else to ask," Wade mumbled, and Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I can't either…"

"I can," Reiben said smirking. The other two looked at our comrade, and Wade shrugged. "Go ahead, ask it then."

Reiben tilted his head a bit to get a good look at me, and he seemed a bit puzzled-as if he was really trying to figure something out. Maybe try to get the answer to his question before he even asked it. And then, came one I really wasn't expecting at all. "Are you a virgin?"

"Seriously, Reiben?"

"Hey, you said you'd answer anything. 'Nothing to hide'," Reiben justified, before pausing. "And I'm willing to bet these two were wondering, at some point. Just didn't have the guts to ask."

I glanced at them, they neither confirmed nor denied this. But three pairs of curious eyes looked at me, and I gave a bit of a sigh.

"Well, what the hell do you think? Of course…not."

Before I added the negative to my answer, they all seemed a little shocked. Afterwards, though, Wade and Jackson simply shrugged, and Reiben looked forward once more. "Yeah…that's what I thought…"

"So, is the game over?" I asked, not sure whether I wanted it to be or not.

"Nah, I have another question I can ask," Reiben voiced up, and of course…there was that smirk again. I didn't trust it.

"I swear to God, Reiben…" I mumbled, causing him to snicker some. "What? Afraid of my question?"

"No!" I said indignantly, I answered the last one, hadn't I? Surely he couldn't come up with something worse. Unless he asked for a number…which I doubt even he would do. He wasn't that much of an ass, right? "Well, what is it?"

"Hm…" He started, looking around at the company. "I'm not gonna make this one easy," he said, and I had a feeling the goal of this question would be to make me the slightest bit uncomfortable. "If you had to pick one man from the company, who would it be?"

"One man for what?"

"Raquin, don't act so innocent," Reiben said with a look that was pure interest now. "One man in the company to screw. Go."

"Uh…" I started, already a faint pink color rising to my cheeks. I'd never thought about it, honestly. Now, picking through each of them was going to be pretty tough. "We talking based on looks, or what?" I questioned, trying to buy myself a bit more time to think.

"Whatever the hell you want it to be based on," he said, and once again I felt the pressure from three pairs of eyes looking at me to answer. Gah, this was awkward! Saying one of their names would be weird since they were right there-although my honest answer WAS one of the three. Saying a name of somebody up front would distract them, but surely the person would find out, and that would be even more weird.

Well, lose-lose situation. Might as well go with the lesser of two evils and be honest.

"I'd pick…" I started, acting as if it was a tough decision as my eyes scanned all of the men in the company. Then, I turned back to look at Reiben and matter of factly said, "Jackson."

Clearly this wasn't the expected answer. Reiben sure as hell look surprised. Wade just faced forward, continued walking. Jackson, I noticed looked a bit smug.

"…really?" Reiben asked, and I nodded. "Well, if you don't mind me asking, whys that?"

Honestly? I was prepared for this question from the moment I gave my answer. And maybe it was because I grew up around my brother and his friends that I had this sort of mind, but I quickly came up with a 'reason'…

"Well…" I reached over and patted the muzzle of his Sniper Rifle, causing them to look down at it. "His equipment is pretty damn long…"

My answer had the desired effect, they laughed some and a wide grin spread across my face. Sure, I might have distracted them from my answer with a bit of crude humor; but who the hell cared? I lightened the mood, brought a bit of humor to an otherwise dreary situation. I cared about these boys more than I wanted to admit. And as I glanced at Jackson and caught his eye, I realized I didn't care that he knew my answer now. It was the truth-and I could only sit there and hope he had the same idea as me. Because if he did….

Well, no regrets, right?


	6. Chapter 6: Didn't See That One Coming

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note:** Back to school….posts are going to be a bit slow again :/ I'm hoping to get one every 3-4 days, but worst case scenario: one a week. Oh, and can anybody tell me why there are absolutely NO people who RP Saving Private Ryan? It's a damn shame! ): Ah well, Reviews would be amazing(:

It's beyond me how in the course of less than forty-eight hours, you can go from being complete strangers with a person to developing an abnormally strong bond…or maybe that's just what war did. It warps your judgment entirely-this was true in my case. Formerly, I was more careful. I never was one to trust people easily, but now? These men who I would, under any other circumstances, label as merely acquaintances, I believed in to do the right thing and watch my back. Maybe it's the fact you never know when death will come knocking on your door, and you want to have no what ifs about a friendship. Or maybe it has to do with the automatic conclusion since you're on the same side; you must have similar values, and therefore would get along fine. Possible still was the fact that Upham pointed out-there are bonds of brotherhood that develop between soldiers, or any men, in the midst of a crisis. Maybe I'd survive to figure it out, and maybe not. The only true conclusion I could currently draw was that these bonds, normal or not, were firm between the soldiers of our company. Who was to say these bonds would last forever, though? Would they fall through as soon as the war was over? -Only time would tell, as would the possibility that maybe none of us would come out of here alive. Just how strong were these bonds? Could something simple break them? There was no telling if they were as fragile as a shard of glass, or strong as the steel that made the barrel of our guns. Personally, I didn't wish to test them…I didn't want to risk losing this newfound companionship where I thought it would never be possible to form. But everyone and everything had a breaking point. The strongest man, the toughest metal, even something as hard as diamond had some sort of weakness. What were the weaknesses of our bonds? It could be anything-betrayal, dishonesty, maybe even the simple emotion of jealousy. I could easily hypothesize that if one of our men cracked, succumbed to these weaknesses, that the bonds would falter and split apart following that. I told myself that I, for one, would never be the cause of one of them losing it, reaching that breaking point. But as I would come to learn, fate has an evil way of twisting our worst nightmares into a cruel reality.

After our game of sorts had drawn to a close, I found the idea of continuing on in silence a bit unnerving. Why? Well, the fact that they all knew this information about me-whether it was personal or not-and I knew nothing about them (save Jackson and Reiben's birth places) put me on edge. Not in a negative way. I just wish they would have thrown in their own answers here or there, because now I had nothing to dwell on, and it was like they had the world.

Luckily, the uncomfortable silence didn't last long. Soon enough, the buzzing of low conversations arose, along with the occasional scream of agony. I flinched as I heard it, of course there would be wounded men here. It was another safe haven, in a way, for us to stay at. I felt so helpless to ease their suffering at all, and that made me not want to go forth…but I had a point to prove, and I reminded myself of that firmly. If I couldn't face some wounded men of our own side, how in the hell was I going to continue on as a soldier?

A few branches hung low to the ground, and after pushing them out of the way, we came to a tiny, worn down path. We followed it, and in front of us stood an army plane. Now, this is one of my things I've noticed: you never really pay attention to detail until you know what's in front of you could be the last thing you ever see. When I saw planes in the sky, I really didn't give two shits. But this plane in front of me was HUGE, and I never realized they were really this big. There was some intricate details on the star painted on the side, and I wanted to get a better look-but being pushed by your comrades through a plane's door might interfere with your attempted reading just a bit.

Exiting through the other door, my eyes were met with a sight of devastation. There were rows upon rows of injured soldiers, some who looked on the brink of death and some who had merely suffered a few simple scratches. There wasn't a medic in sight, and that fact hit my stomach hard. Had all of the medics been killed as well? Gone if in another company? Or simply given up on the injured men as a lost cause?

"Wade," I heard someone call, and I snapped back to reality as I looked over at Miller. He was looking at the medic with somber eyes, and Wade was looking back at him. "Yes, sir?"

"Go see if you can help out," the Captain instructed, and Wade nodded before heading off towards the injured men, pulling supplies out of his pack as he went.

The Captain walked off to find the man in charge here, and we all stood around for a moment.

"Well…might as well help out Wade a little," Jackson said, and we all nodded before dispersing through the men. I, personally, just talked to a few of them to try and get their spirits up-while science of the mind was my forte, science of the body was far off. Biology had never been my thing, and, well….I figured sitting back and not touching anything was my best bet to help. With my luck, I'd go to wrap a wound and the person would die-no joke. Besides, sometimes all you needed was a positive attitude to pull through an injury.

Manipulating minds was my special skill.

Any of the men who seemed down I held a short conversation with. They didn't think they were going to pull through, and I twisted their thoughts. They WERE going to-I'd seen worse, there were men who'd been through worse, and they'd all survived. What was going to make their case any different?

After talking one of the last men in a row, I straightened up to stretch a bit and glanced around. Reiben was lighting a cigarette for an injured soldier, while Wade was putting pressure on a bullet wound on a different man. Jackson had wandered off on his own to who knows where, and Upham was near the Captain, looking on the scene with a ghastly white face-obviously, he hadn't grown used to the fact that people die in the war yet. Horvath and the Captain were talking to the man in charge of this crew, so…where was Mellish?

"Juden."

I blinked as I heard the word-it was clearly German, as it wasn't English or French. I turned around to see if I could spot its origin.

"Juden!"

"Juuuuuudeeeeen…"

I couldn't help the look that crossed my face-the bastard child of a smile and a frown. For I wasn't sure if that fact that Mellish was rubbing his heritage in the face of German soldiers was laughable, or the only humane way he could get back at them since he wasn't stooping down to their level.

Then again…I'm sure he truly, truly wanted to.

I saw Captain Miller following another man towards yet another plane, and decided to follow. As I stepped over a few men who had since passed on, I noticed most of my own company had the same idea.

I didn't learn much from the conversation that followed, except never to drill a steel plate into a plane to protect somebody. Because A, it will be far to heavy for the plane to carry, and B, it's not worth a multitude of men's death just to save one man…especially if that man dies in the process, anyway.

Well, wasn't that a fancy little coincidence. Wouldn't it figure we see the destruction trying to save one man causes when we were on a mission to do almost the same thing? It didn't help the cause that we had already lost one of our men, and it seemed everybody came to this conclusion-all eyes turned to Miller, and resounding agreements of 'FUBAR' could be heard. I couldn't say I disagreed, because I wholeheartedly did agree. I just didn't feel it was my place to voice my opinion right now.

I exited the plane along with the others, as Miller shouted out orders. Upham went over to the incoming squad, while we were handed off the bag of dog tags-that was pretty damn full, mind you-and told to filter through them and see if we could find any trace of Ryan. Walking over to a makeshift table, we all took up a post and started to shift through the piles.

"Hey, Jackson, keep the dog tags in your own fucking pile, alright? They're getting mixed up with mine!" Reiben snapped, as he tossed some over towards the sniper.

Jackson looked up at him, a disgusted look plastered across his face. "Hey, Reiben, why don't you shut up?" he said stiffly, before continuing to shift through them.

There was a bit of silence as we tossed the wrong tags on to the table, and then Jackson said, "I think I got a winner…"

Mellish snatched the tag from his grip, examining it before giving a snort. "You know what? You're a real fucking genius. You really are. R-I-E-N-N-E. That's Rienne. And it's French, all right?"

A few of us laughed some, Jackson shifting his eyes about a bit before looking through the tags once more. What started out as innocently following the Captain's orders quickly escalated into a game not unlike poker itself. I continued with my own task, however, not wanting to get involved; although I did notice that Captain Miller seemed the slightest bit amused at the boys antics anyway.

Well, as I was about to see, just because the Captain didn't mind them doesn't mean everybody was alright with them joking around.

A movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Wade watching us, wiping-well, more like smearing-the blood on his hands. He threw his towel down, and it was clear simply by the way he walked over here that he was angry. As he reached the table, he leaned forward and grabbed fistfuls of the dog tags, shoving them back in their bag.

"The whole goddamn airborne is watching. What the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled. I never thought I'd hear Wade sound so…well…vicious.

"Whoa, Wade, settle down." I said, examining another tag before it was promptly snatched out of my hand.

"Are you trying to scare the rest of the soldiers?" he asked, and I glanced over at the line Upham was talking to. They were looking over-some faces betrayed their emotions of being scared absolutely shitless. Immediately I felt a pang of guilt, and I eased my tags back into the brown bag where they couldn't be seen.

Once they were all hidden from the other squad's view, Wade slammed the bag back on the table and walked back to his patients.

"Man, what's up his ass?" I questioned, watching as he started to get to work on another injured soldier.

"I told him he had to watch out for Upham…comes at you when your backs turned and you aren't looking. Preferably when you've bent over to pick up your gun," Reiben said nonchalantly, causing a few laughs to ripple out between us. The Brooklyn native turned his eyes up to me. "But don't worry, you're safe," he said with a bit of a smirk.

"Yeah?" I asked, before Mellish put his feet up on the crate. "Well, she's not safe from you," he tossed at Reiben, who just shook his head as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

From my perch, I looked around at the sea of soldiers. One in particular caught my eye; he had his head down and there was gauze wrapped around his leg. Other than that wound, he seemed perfectly okay-but still seemed to have a sort of depressed air about him. Frowning some, I decided why not talk to one more guy? What could be the harm, right?

I stood up, making my way over towards the man. I knelt down next to him, reaching out and touching his shoulder tentatively. "Hey…." I started, softly. "Are you alright?" I questioned, tilting my head to the side. His head came up, and three things happened all at the same time.

One: I saw his eyes were almost an exact reflection of mine. They were the same bright shade of blue, except there was a twinge of green in the middle. Odd.

Two: When he saw me, his face twisted into a mix of a grimace and surprise. The grimace could have had something to do with the fact that I fell back out of my squat, and my hand smacked against his injured leg. The reason I fell?

Three: In the glint of the sun, I noticed one thing that stood out and made my breath catch in my throat. There, printed on his dog tags, was the name 'RAQUIN'.


	7. Chapter 7: Determination

**Summary:** Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.

**Author's Note:** Gah, I'm sorry it took so long for an update! Life is pretty hectic right now-with the holidays, not to mention some last minute papers and projects! Guaranteed over my break I'll have some additional chapters out-3 or 4 in the course of the 23rd to January 3rd, I'm hoping (: Well, as usual, reviews appreciated!

It felt like a dream-everything so familiar, yet so unknown all at the same time. Millions of thoughts were rushing through my head, and I couldn't clear it-was this a nightmare? Was it real life? Or was it some sort of sick hallucination my mind was trying to play on me, in return for putting it through the stresses of war? Although I previously thought I was damned from the moment I signed on the dotted line, I believed that maybe there was some slim chance in hell that I would make it out of this okay…that my brother would still be at home, safe, with his family. And now, the worst of my nightmares seemed to come true, that he was standing here in front of me.

But, wait….weren't Micah's eyes more of a greenish than blue? His hair was much darker than my own; in front of me, the boy's was blonde. It clicked, this wasn't Micah-wasn't him at all. I felt a temporary flare of relief that coursed through my veins like lava, before my eyes settled on the familiar scar on the side of the boy's face. Then, it hit me like a freight train-this wasn't my brother, but we were still blood related. Instead, I had stumbled upon my cousin.

The two were often mistaken as brothers, having an uncanny resemblance to each other. The only difference was Micah's hair was a deep brown, where as my cousin-his name was Nathaniel-had hair identical to mine. I hadn't seen him in a long time, and I could only imagine what he was missing at home. Last I heard, he was getting ready to graduate medical school, and was going steady with his high school sweetheart, Melanie. But now? He was wrenched from that life and tossed straight into this one-cruel, unforgiving, and undiscriminatory towards which lives it took. Vaguely, I was aware of the fact that while most men tried to avoid this at all costs, I had been the stupid ass that volunteered.

All in good reason, I told myself.

"Nate." Nearly breathless with my discovery, it took a moment to get the words out. He squinted his eyes as if he was trying to make me out-either that, or trying to determine if what he saw was actually real. "Charise? What in the hell are you doing here!" His voice was laced with a vicious anger-not towards me; it seemed it was towards the army in general. "Is this what it's come to, they're beginning to draft women as well?"

"No-Nate, that isn't it at all," I said quickly, ignoring the pairs of eyes I felt move over to settle on us. "I did this…myself. I snuck in."

"Why?" His voice was riddled with curiosity, and a bit of incredulity. I shook my head, not looking at him. "I wish I knew myself. But hey-I'm here, I'm alive. I should be thankful for that. How've you been?"

"Don't you know what your family is going through?"

His question made my stop cold in my tracks of attempting to start a conversation. Nate was a good guy, don't get me wrong; but he was never one to really be in tune with other people's emotions. Sad? That's your problem. Angry? Find a way to take it out, but don't include him. Even at funerals, he mostly kept to himself and didn't comfort anybody. So to hear him talk about my family like that, well, it really hit home and made me worry.

"They have no clue what happened to you," he started, giving me a reproachful look. "You could've run off with some guy. Could be dead. Could just be kidnapped or some shit, they don't know. Didn't you think about the consequences this would have before you went off on your own?"

"I couldn't tell anyone, Nate. I took Micah's letter and left so he wouldn't have to leave his wife."

"What the hell are you talking about, Charise? Micahs here!"

Just like that, it felt as if my blood turned to ice. "He's….here?"

"Well, not here. But in Europe. He was part of the 101st, but I heard a lot of their men went down. I hope Micah wasn't one of them….they still haven't found a lot of the bodies." I felt paralyzed, as if some ugly Gorgon had reared it's head and I'd had the bad luck to look it in the eye. I couldn't talk; I felt as if my lips just couldn't form the words my tongue desperately wanted to speak. My breath was shaky, because within the course of less than ten minutes, I had gone from being under the impression my brother was safe at home to thinking he might be dead.

-FLASHBACK-

"_Charise?"_

"_Yeah?" I peeked my head around the corner of the kitchen wall, eyes resting on Micah before cautiously regarding the kitchen. I could hear steady snores coming from the adjacent room, and I scurried across the floor to rest by his side, staring at the refrigerator expectantly. It was a week after my ninth birthday, and we were staying at my uncle's-he was home and unemployed, so while my parents went on a vacation, he watched us to get money. _

_But once again, he had forgotten to feed us. Reaching in the pantry, Micah pulled out a loaf of bread and went to get a knife, while I ambled about to gather peanut butter and jelly. Micah poured us each a drink, and I took a biet of the sandwich after it was made. The contents quieted my stomach, albeit momentarily, and I chewed it thoroughly. I had almost finished my food when I heard a noise I dreaded._

_The springs of the couch squeaked as Uncle stood up, and he began to shuffle into the kitchen, grumbling annoyedly. I don't know how Nate lived with the man; maybe this was why he moved out at age eighteen. All I did know was uncle was moving forward, and he seemed angry._

_I was shoved behind Micah, hidden between him and the counter tops as uncle raised his fist. It smacked Micah in the shoulder with a thud, but I didn't hear a sound. This is how it always was-Micah protecting me, uncle smacking him around, and Micah never uttering so much as a whimper._

_But this time was different. He hit Micah hard, catching him on the side of the head-that blow gave him what we later discovered was a concussion. But that was the only time he ever yelped, and even that was a quiet one. It was that noise that brought out Nate-then seventeen, usually hidden in his room-to the rescue. He grabbed his father's arm, but uncle grasped one of his many empty beer bottles scattered about the counter and hit Nate with it-thus causing the scar on his face. Nate hit him a few good times, before ushering us up to his room and locking the door._

_That was the last time we ever stayed at uncles'. That was the last month Nate was ever there. Consequently, that was also the last time I ever saw my uncle alive._

-PRESENT DAY-

I felt at a loss for words as I tried to justify what Nate had said, thinking that he was lying to me. All that time at my Uncles, Micah had fearlessly protected me. He protected me so many times when we were growing up-from kids at school, from the mean dog down the street, even from some people when we were walking home one day-and I couldn't protect him, just this once? Had everything I'd really done been in vain?

I slipped down into a sitting position, feeling my eyes water up some. I had never been one to cry, but the circumstances surrounding me made it almost impossible not to. My eyes were fixed on the ground, but in my peripheral vision I could see Nate scrutinizing me, my eyes had clearly softened from his tirade of sorts before. "Hey…c'mon, Charise.. It's alright. Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine."

"B….but what if he's not?" I questioned, my voice clearly shaking. "It's just like you said…m-my parents are worried and now t-they'll probably lose two kids instead of just one!"

"Don't say that. You'll get through this fine-we all will," he assured me, but I still couldn't find it in my heart to believe him. "We'll all meet up back at home, and everything will be fine. He'll get back to his family, I'll get back to Mel, and you'll get back and have a family of your own. You just have to hope for the best, or you'll end up with the worst."

"That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible."

I could vaguely hear Miller talking to a few different soldiers passing by, shouting for one to be able to hear him. Wade was running around, checking on different soldiers and making sure they were in stable condition. Upham was still here, helping Miller translate. Horvath was relaxing, talking to another captain, while Mellish was nearby, smoking a cigarette. Jackson and Reiben were sitting nearby, talking lowly and looking around. It seemed fully impossible to me that we would all make it out of here okay, that the rest of us would survive-hell, we'd already lost Caparzo.

But then again, in the beginning I also thought it was impossible I would make it past even the first battle. My whole plan was to go out in a shot of glory, and the fact a family had lost their daughter would prevent them from then drafting my brother. But clearly, the fact that I was still here and kicking it-unfortunately or fortunately, however you chose to look at it-was defying the odds to begin with. But could I really believe that it was possible Micah, Nate, and myself would all make it back home safe? That was one set of odds that I didn't think could be beaten, no matter how much luck we had.

Once more, however, my hopeful, optimistic side got the best of me. I gave Nate a short nod, and raised my hands to wipe away the tears that had began to run down my cheeks. I swallowed back the lump in my throat, and after a moment raised my eyes to look at him.

"Better?"

"Yeah, I-I guess. Still shaky, though. I can't fully believe your words, but I can try."

A look of hesitation crossed Nate's face, before he looked around and then his eyes settled back on me. "Here. Take this-maybe it will help you believe what it said." He reached around his finger and pulled off a silver ring, shiny despite the few dirt smudges here and there. He wiped them off on his uniform before handing it over to me. It was a full circle, adorned with nothing but a tiny twist in the center. It was chunkier-clearly a man's ring, of course-but inscribed on the insides were the words he had spoke before, in loopy, beautiful handwriting. 'nothing is impossible'.

I held it up, looking at it as he spoke. "Mel made it for me before I left." I looked at him, and held it back towards him. "No, I can't take it if she made it for you-it's yours, and-"

"Charise, relax…I only really wore it to make her happy anyway," he said with a bit of a chuckle. "Rings aren't exactly something you see a lot of twenty-nine year old guys wearing. Keep it," he said, pushing my hand back towards me. I silently slipped it onto my finger-it was a little big, but the back had a piece you could squeeze to tighten it. Upon doing so, I raised my eyes back to Nate. "Thank you…really."

He nodded, giving me a weak smile. "Don't worry, it was nothing. But you should probably go now-I think your team is looking for you," he said, and I glanced over. Sure enough, the seven remaining guys were staring at me, and Miller motioned for me to come over.

"Alright…I'll see you, Nate. Back home."

He nodded, grinning some. "Stay safe."

I nodded as well, and pushed myself up. I made my way over towards my team, and luckily, there were no questions-just Miller giving me instructions on what we were doing and where we were going. I listened silently, nodding, and before we left I glanced back at the men behind us.

There were so many of them, wounded or unwounded, who merely wanted to go home. They probably all thought it wouldn't happen, and were sure that they were going to die here on some foreign soil. Moments ago, I would've believed the same thing-believed that I was doomed to die in some unknown land, by the hands of unknown people. I'd believed that ever since I signed up for this. But now, I see all it took was a few words to change my outlook on that. And as we prepared to leave, I wished Nate would tell them all what he had just convinced me of…that even if all the odds are stacked against you, you just have to hope for the best.


End file.
